


Pack Wars

by house_of_lantis



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Bonding, Gore, Immortality, Knotting, Language, M/M, Off page rape, Sex, Violence, War, Werewolves, dark themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:47:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/house_of_lantis/pseuds/house_of_lantis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after four hundred years, Kristopher never forgot what Adam did to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Off page rape, dark themes, war, gore, violence, language, sex, werewolves, bonding, immortality, knotting. It’s darkfic people. Triggers everywhere! I don’t know if this will have any kind of a happy ending.
> 
> Based on prompts by several people at Kradamadness Kink Meme.

_1610, Anno Domini  
In the Kingdom of Angelus _

 

His mother used to tell him stories of their heritage, back in the days before the Great Divide, when humans and wolves lived together. They were not master and slave, but partners in survival. The wolves shared their wisdom of the earth and the humans protected them from the lean years. And then one day, a human girl and a young male wolf became one and birthed a new race – werewolves – part human and part wolf, a line of the first immortals, worshipped by some, feared by others. Then came the dark years of the Great Divide when humans shunned werewolves and drove them into the forests, the only sound of their existence were the loud wolf songs in the night.

Adam sneered at the old stories, stupid fairy tales told to the young cubs. It was silly nonsense. Adam knew that they were the pure race – the only one that mattered. Of the sixteen packs that ruled the lands of earth, his pack and four other packs broke off from the faithless to form the strongest wolves in the world. They were at war and they would not stop until the humans were destroyed and the cowardly werewolves who wanted to live with the humans were dead at his feet.

He pulled the furs closer to his chin as he walked across the snow field to the large tent hidden in the trees. His generals stood up as he swept inside and he gave them a nod as he walked towards the large table in the center of the room.

“We’ll attack them at first light,” Adam said, looking at the maps. He glanced up at the generals. “Kill them all.”

“But Sire, this is…the Prince is with them.”

“We could come to terms.”

Adam frowned.

“If we capture him alive, we could force him to listen to us.”

“Easier to just kill him,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly. “I’m not a politician. This is not a negotiation or a treaty. This is war. It’s our pack against their pack. It’s our freedom, gentlemen, and I’m not going to _negotiate_ terms for that.”

The generals nodded. They knew better than to disagree with him.

“Ready our pack. We’ll spill their blood before they can spill ours.”

***

Adam lounged in his chair, too excited to sleep. With every passing of the moon across the night sky, he could feel his werewolf shift under his skin.

“Wake the Sire!”

Adam sat up quickly and grabbed for his furs, pulling them over his shoulders as he left his tent. He heard the angry howls of a werewolf and he pushed through the crowd of his soldiers. “What’s going on here?”

“We caught him, Sire, we got him!”

“Got the Prince.”

“Caught him sniffing around our lands!”

Adam watched as several of his soldiers dragged the large brown wolf towards him. He was chained around the neck, digging into his fur and flesh, as he snarled and lashed out with his claws. One of his soldiers flicked his whip against the back of the wolf. Adam stared at the brown wolf. He wasn’t very large, but he was strong and he wouldn’t be easy to break.

“Bring him,” he commanded, walking back to his tent.

He pushed the flap open and turned, watching as the four men dragged the wolf inside. He watched as they secured the chains to the metal pikes on the ground. Adam waved his soldiers away as he watched the snarling wolf who tracked him with narrowed brown eyes.

“Shift to your human form.”

The wolf bared his teeth at Adam, tugging on the chains.

“Shift or I’ll kill you right here.” He pulled out the silver knife from the leather holding at his side and showed it to the wolf. “Shift.”

He watched as the wolf dug his claws into the ground and let out an angry huff through his nostrils. He twisted in his chains and Adam watched as the wolf shifted slowly, the dark fur receding, revealing the human skin underneath and bearing the scars of the whip on his back. Adam walked around the man, slender and pale, messy brown hair on his head, but well formed arms and shoulders. He stopped a few feet in front of the man and watched as the kneeling man raise his head, staring up at Adam.

“Well, well, well, Prince Kristopher,” Adam said, mockingly. He walked closer and traced the tip of his knife down the young Prince’s bruised cheek. “In chains and on your knees again. For me.”


	2. Chapter 2

_January, 2012, Anno Domini  
Los Angeles, California   
PRESENT DAY _

The werewolf wars ended long before humans and werewolves could decimate their populations. In the end, pack bonds were broken and the werewolves went into hiding, blending in with human society, the fear of being hunted decreasing with each generation.

Prince Adam Lambert of the Angelus Pack shed his title, his lands, and his hatred centuries ago.

Now, he was simply Adam Lambert, owner of a small music store in West Hollywood. Some days, he drove down the streets of Los Angeles, unable to forget that he once owned these lands and ruled one of the strongest werewolf packs in the world.

Until that one night when he lost it all.

It was unforgivable, what he did that night. He had destroyed his pack and bound himself to a destiny he never wanted.

Immortality was his punishment; no matter how many times he had danced with death, he would never be free. Not when his life was bound to another. Not when dying was a choice he could have ever again.

“Adam?”

He looked up from his computer screen and smiled at the young woman leaning against his desk. “Hey, Alli.” He glanced at the clock by the door. “It’s after ten, what’re you still doing here? Go home, sweetie.”

“You had that look on your face again,” she said, frowning.

He chuckled, taking a deep breath and shutting down his computer monitor. “Just thinking about something.” He looked up at her and smiled. “Is your mom coming to pick you up?”

“She’s outside,” Allison said, taking a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Alli. Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He stood up and gave her a hug, her hair tickling his nose and her scent familiar and warm. She wasn’t pack, but she was human and family and he loved her like a sister. He watched as she broke into a wide grin, waving to him as she grabbed her bag. He watched her from the store doorway as she got into her mother’s car. He waved to them both, waiting until the car was pulling away.

After checking to lock the doors and to close down the store for the night, he made his way to his apartment above. It amazed him that he had amassed so many belongings since he returned to the Angelus lands just a few years ago. His small apartment was packed with things he had collected over time, memories of lost eras, trinkets from his past.

He turned on the TV and tossed the remote on the coffee table, walking into the kitchen to get a drink. He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and took a long drink, his senses on high alert. He felt the breeze coming in from an opened window in the living room and he tucked his chin in the air, sniffing the air for a scent.

Someone – a werewolf – was in his home.

He dropped the plastic bottle and turned, hearing the soft footsteps coming up behind him.

And pain, such sharp pain. He looked down at his side to see a silver blade being dug into his side. He fell to the carpet and looked up at the man holding him, pushing the blade even deeper into his guts.

So much hatred in those brown eyes. He gasped in pain, eyes watering. “Kristopher.”

He pushed the blade harder and Adam groaned, his legs trembling against the floor, his blood dripping across his body.

“Kristopher! Please, stop—“

He laughed softly against Adam’s ear. “I’ve been waiting _four hundred years_ to hear you beg, Adam.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **AUTHOR’S NOTE: Did you read the warnings? Read the warnings!**

Adam bit back his scream of pain when Kristopher pulled the knife halfway out, thrusting it back into his side.

“Do—do whatever you need—“

“Shut up. I don’t need _permission_ to hurt you. You never gave me the option.”

Adam swallowed and turned his head to look up at the snarling face of his bonded mate. He licked his lips and met Kristopher’s eyes. “I know you’re angry—“

“You don’t know _anything_ about me,” Kristopher hissed at him, leaning closer to his face. “You took what you wanted and then you damned both of us to this. Just remember that this is your fault, Adam. I’m your creation.”

“I deserve to die for what I did to you.”

Kristopher narrowed his eyes, lips twitching in disgust. “You deserve more than just an easy death.”

He twisted the blade again and Adam lost feeling below his waist, the pungent scent of urine filling the air.

“That was your spinal column,” Kristopher said, thickly. “Remember when you cut my spine and then fucked me?”

Adam closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Look at me, damn you!”

His hands trembled on the bloody carpet and he opened his eyes to look at Kristopher. The handsome face of the forever youthful werewolf twisted into something ugly and tainted. Adam wanted to touch him, to erase that look of wrath on Kristopher’s face. To be so close to him now, even like this, even with Kristopher intent on torturing him, the bond between them soothed his werewolf. He wondered if Kristopher felt it, too; or did he only feel hate?

“Do whatever you want to me. I’m not going to fight you.”

Kristopher spit on Adam’s face and sat back on his knees, sliding the blade from Adam’s side. He smiled, holding up the bloody knife, turning it in his hand. Adam stared at it, recognizing the length and elegance of the blade. “It took me nearly a century to find it. It was in someone’s private collection – they didn’t even know what they had, what it was worth. Do you recognize it? It’s yours. The same one you used to take the skin off my back.” He placed the tip against Adam’s cheek and stroked him with it gently. Adam flinched away as Kristopher chuckled. “You took my eyes first so that I couldn’t run away. You laughed when I tried to escape.” He took a deep breath. “Immortality has its advantages; and werewolves are hard to kill. Everything heals in time. How many times did you let me heal so that you could hurt me again?”

“Kristopher—“

“Nineteen times,” he said, conversationally. “All these centuries and I’ll never understand why we bonded. Of course, we didn’t know about genetics back then. It was always something so _magical_ when two werewolves mated and bonded. It was a celebration; a gift from the gods that the humans believed in.”

Adam watched as Kristopher moved closer to him, looking at his face.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” he whispered, a shy smile on his lips. “I grew up hoping that I’d bond with a werewolf; that one day I’d be lucky enough to find my mate and live a long life with them.”

Adam clenched his teeth and looked away, unable to look at the blush on Kristopher’s cheeks.

He curled his arms over Adam’s chest and leaned down on him, smiling slightly. “I had never had sex with anyone, you know. You were the first. Did you know? When you fucked me that first time, did you know that I hadn’t taken a lover before that night? Did you like it? Knowing that you were the first?”

“Yes. I knew.” Adam bit his lip, meeting Kristopher’s eyes. “I liked it.”

“I’m going to slice you open, Adam, and then I’ll take your heart out of your chest,” he said, softly. “And then maybe when you die, this _thing_ inside of me will stop hurting. This feeling that I’ve had for four hundred years. This sick connection we have. And then maybe I can die in peace, too.“

“Do it,” Adam hissed at him, narrowing his eyes. “Do it! Kill me!”

Kristopher stared at him for a long moment.

“Don’t you think I’ve felt the same thing all this time!” He yelled at Kristopher. “I’ve tried to kill myself more times than you’ll know but the bond doesn’t die if only one of us dies. So kill me and then kill yourself. Set us free.”


	4. Chapter 4

Adam watched as Kristopher dropped the knife, getting up to walk to the couch. He sat down heavily, not looking at Adam, his face turned slightly away.

“You were once my friend,” Kristopher said, voice choking. He wiped his face with his hands, taking a shuddering breath.

He remembered the first time he saw Kristopher, the Crown Prince was just a couple of months old when Adam and his parents visited the Allens. They were the ruling pack at the time, long before the packs divided and the wars began. He spent his summers, watching Kristopher grow from a toddler to a boy to a young man. He was there when he helped Kristopher shift to his werewolf form for the first time. He remembered the last time they stood as friends.

 _”We’re better than them, Kristopher, we shouldn’t have to answer to those weak humans.”_

 _“They may not be pack, but we’re still the same. We’re humans, too,” Kristopher said, putting his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Why do you hate them so much, Adam? Help me understand.”_

 _“Why do you not hate them with every ounce of your being?” Adam snarled, pushing Kristopher’s hand from him. “They hunt us and every year they take more and more of our lands, pushing us into the forests. They steal our homes!”_

 _“But war isn’t the answer.”_

 _Adam snorted. “Then what? A peaceful resettlement? We share our lands with them?”_

 _“Yes! If it comes to that, we have to learn to share. Maybe it has to start with us.”_

 _Adam stared at him and took a step back. “You’d betray your own kind for them, Kristopher?”_

 _“No, of course not—“_

 _“You’d let them chain us, make us slaves, and for what? Peace? Co-existence?”_

 _Kristopher grabbed his wrist. “Adam, werewolves and humans need each other to survive. Can’t you see that?”_

 _“No,” he said, ripping his hand from Kristopher’s strong grip. “I’ll not bow to a prince or a king who won’t protect us from our enemies.”_

 _“They’re not our enemies!”_

 _Adam glared at Kristopher, meeting his eyes. “Then maybe you are.”_

He closed his eyes, feeling the wounds beginning to heal. He felt the sharp tingling in his toes, running up his legs, his spine reconnecting. He flexed his feet and sat up slowly, lifting his shirt to see that the cuts on his side were turning pink with new skin.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Kristopher ran his hands over his head and took a noisy breath.

“I remember everything,” Adam said, sitting up and folding his legs in front of him. “The last time that I…when I knotted you…I felt everything that you felt. Everything that I did to you…through the bond.”

“And I felt everything you felt,” he snarled, staring at the floor. “Your sick enjoyment and your sadistic perversions.”

Adam swallowed and stared at his hands, nodding slowly.

“How could you— _enjoy_ what you did to me?”

“I didn’t have any sense of humanity. I hated anyone who opposed my beliefs. “

Kristopher stared at him. “No, you enjoyed it! You liked making me scream. You liked torturing _me_. It wasn’t just war. It wasn’t anything like that. You can’t lie to me because I felt it, Adam, how you liked the power and how you liked seeing me like that.”

Adam looked away and bit his lip. It was true, back then, that he had liked putting Kristopher in his place. The perfect prince; all the other packs who hadn’t followed Adam had gone to Kristopher, swearing loyalty to him. He had ruled over the twelve other werewolf packs, controlled their armies, and nearly destroyed Adam’s packs. So Adam fought dirty; he was no gentleman warrior. He wore the werewolf pelts of his enemies, stripped them of their fur while they were still alive, and he wore them on his shoulders like a trophy. He staked the bodies of his enemies along the roads, alive and delirious, their stomachs cut open. He left them horribly disfigured, their limbs severed, a living memorial of Adam’s atrocities.

He shook his head, pushing the images from his memories, shoving them deep down inside where he didn’t have to see them. But Kristopher brought it all back; he forced Adam to face what he had done. The bond between them wouldn’t allow Adam to hide in Kristopher’s presence.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, gripping his knees.

“You were the true traitor to the werewolves,” Kristopher said, sitting up straighter, his brown eyes hard and merciless as he stared at Adam.

 _Adam groaned, half in pleasure and half in horror, scrambling away as soon as the knot allowed him to pull out of Kristopher’s body. He watched as Kristopher cried, fingers digging into the dirt, body heaving as he let out loud, sobbing cries. Adam clenched his hands into fists and fell on the ground, throwing up everything in his stomach until he felt like his insides would spill out._

 _He rolled on his back and trembled, his entire being connected to Kristopher – every feeling, every sensation, every memory of the last three days imprinted on his mind._

 _“No. No!” He screamed. “No! NO!”_

 _“What did you do?” Kristopher said to him, his voice shaky._

 _Adam turned to look at his…his mate. **Mate!** What did he do to his mate? _

_He watched as tears streaked down Kristopher’s bloody face._

 _“What did you do to me?”_

Adam’s hands trembled and he pressed his hand over his mouth. He remembered that he stood up and picked up his sword and walked out of his tent to his encampment and slaughtered every member in his packs. They couldn't live, not when they witnessed what he had done to his own mate. When he came back to his tent hours later, soaked in the blood of his werewolves, Kristopher was gone. He had spent weeks tracking Kristopher’s scent but he was too smart to be caught again. Adam had forgotten that Kristopher was trained to be a warrior, too, the best of the packs teaching him to lead and to fight. The further Kristopher got from him, the weaker the bond became, but it never broke. Kristopher didn’t break, no matter what Adam did to him. He thought he’d go mad from the separation and for long years, Adam lived in caves, only coming out in the dark of night to hunt for food in his werewolf form. He would never be part of a pack again.


	5. Chapter 5

All he could do was watch as Kristopher got up and left. He wanted to ask Kristopher to stay, wanted to _beg_ him to stay. But why would he want to? So he watched as Kristopher left.

It was odd that he hadn’t felt the presence of any werewolves in Los Angeles in all the years that he came back to the city. Kristopher was the first, but Adam soon discovered that he wouldn’t be the last.

He was going through the LP section of the store when he was hit with the scent of two werewolves. He looked up and checked on Megan and Cale, making sure that they were safe. He didn’t think that werewolves would actually attack his human family, but he would be ready to protect them with his life if he had to.

The two werewolves – one was tall and the other was shorter had long dark hair – were friendly to Megan and Cale, looking through the bins. They met Adam’s gaze but didn’t make any hostile moves to his people or the other people in the small store. Adam didn’t let his guard down for a moment. He put the LPs back and walked to the front of the store, making sure to stand by the register and keep an eye on the two werewolves.

“Cale is being a total dork,” Megan said, grinning at the young man in question.

“What, again?”

“Hey, that’s not fair, you can’t just take her side automatically,” Cale said, laughing.

“What did he do now?”

Megan sighed. “I introduced him to one of my friends and he’s totally being a _man_ and not calling her back.”

Adam chuckled. “I thought you liked her.”

“Just because I like her don’t mean that I’m going to call her up the minute our date ends,” Cale said, rolling his eyes.

“Why not? Is that like a hetero rule or something?” Adam said, grinning widely.

“It’s a guy rule.”

Adam leaned against the counter. “Cale, I hate to say it but that’s kind of a stupid rule.”

“Hey there.”

He turned to look at the werewolf with the long black hair. He looked friendly enough, his smile seemed genuine. “Hi.”

“This your store?”

“Yeah. Five years now.”

The younger werewolf smiled. “It’s a great place. I didn’t think anyone sold LPs anymore. Your collection is pretty awesome.”

“Thank you,” he said, offering his hand. “I’m Adam Lambert.”

“Torres,” he said, shaking Adam’s hand firmly with just enough strength for it to leave an impression.

“Well, is there something in particular that you’re looking for?”

Torres tucked his hands into his pockets and gave a little shrug. It reminded him of Kristopher. “Not right now, but I’m sure we’ll be back to check things out again. Soon.”

Adam nodded slowly. “That’s great. You’ll be more than welcomed.”

“Thanks, man,” he said, grinning up at Adam. He turned to look at the taller man, who wasn’t as friendly, motioning with his head towards the door. “Nice meeting you, Adam.”

He smiled, watching as the two werewolves left the store, the smile dropping from his face. He didn’t know he was holding his breath until he fell back against the counter, taking a deep breath. He knew it wasn’t any kind of coincidence that after Kristopher’s visit a few nights ago two werewolves would just happen into his store.

“He was cute,” Megan said, smirking slightly.

“I suppose so.”

“You know, for a gay man, your gaydar is totally broken,” she murmured, teasingly. “I think he was hitting on you.”

Adam made a face and shook his head. “I doubt that.”

“Looked to me like he was checking you out,” Cale offered, smiling.

He didn’t have any doubt that they were _checking_ him out. But why? Were they part of Kristopher’s pack? Adam knew that when Kristopher escaped him that he would return to his werewolves.

***

After he closed up the store, he waited in his office. He wasn’t surprised when a few minutes later, the back door opened and the two werewolves from earlier that day came into his office. Adam watched them, but he didn’t sense any danger coming from them.

“Torres,” he said and then nodded to the taller werewolf. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.”

The taller werewolf glared at him but stayed silent.

Torres sighed. “That’s Andrew. He really doesn’t like you, man.”

“Look, just tell me what you want,” he said, not wanting to play the game.

“We’re here on behalf of our Sire,” Torres began, looking up at him.

Adam frowned, shaking his head. “I wasn’t aware that there were any wolf packs in LA.”

He watched as Andrew wandered around his office, looking at the various pictures and collected knick-knacks Adam had set up.

Torres laughed softly. “We’ve just relocated from the southern lands. As far as we know, you’re still Sire over Angelus, even though you don’t have a pack to call your own. We’re just being civil.”

He nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “All right. If you’re here wanting to set up your pack on my lands, then you’re more than welcomed.”

The shorter man grinned and took a deep breath. “Considering that you’re bonded to our Sire, I don’t think we need your permission to be here, do you?”

Adam stood up, dropping his arms. “Kristopher is your prince?” How had he kept his packs in tact after all this time?

“He’s our king,” Andrew said, growling slightly. “And you still haven’t been punished for what you did to him.”

Adam returned the growl, the hairs on his arms and neck rising. He felt his werewolf stirring, the first time in a long time, readying for war.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Torres said, stepping between them and holding up his hands. “Look, we’re just being friendly here. Now, our Sire has told us that he’s found his bond mate – you – and since we’re his friends, we just wanted to check you out to see if you were going to be a problem.”

“A problem?” Adam said, staring at him.

“Our Sire wants to create a safe haven for the pack. We’ve been homeless for the last few centuries. I imagine you know why that is. And, well, to be honest, we really like it here in California. Angelus was always prime wolf pack land, you know?”

Adam did know; he and his pack had fought and held the Angelus lands for generations.

“And we’re really concerned, Adam, because of your past.”

“I’m not going to _hurt_ Kristopher—“

“That’s not the only reason why,” Andrew said, staring at him. “You slaughtered your own pack. You’re the last surviving werewolf of _four_ werewolf packs, Lambert. Why the hell would we want you as a pack member now? Most of us don’t give a shit that you’re the bond mate to our king. You’re a rogue and a pack traitor and—“

“Okay, that’s enough,” Torres said, his voice rising slightly. Andrew huffed a breath and left the office. “Look, Adam, times have changed; Kristopher leads twelve packs but there’s not many of us alive after the wars. You understand why we’re not a big fan of you, right?”

Adam took a deep breath. “I won’t get in the way if that’s what you’re asking.” He met Torres’s dark brown eyes. He thought he saw compassion in them. “I haven’t been part of a pack for over 400 years. I don’t…”

 _Need one? Desperately wish he could be part of one? Long to be with his bond mate?_ He knew Torres wouldn’t believe him if he said any of that. So he kept his silence.

“Okay. Good,” the other werewolf said, giving Adam a small smile. He turned to go but stopped and looked back at him. “For what it’s worth, I wish things were different.”

Adam nodded slowly. “Me, too.”


	6. INTERLUDE

**A/N: I thought it would be interesting to write from Kris’s point of view.**

 

“Torres and Andrew are back,” his Senechal said, walking into his private rooms.

He strummed a few chords on his guitar. “What do they report?”

“The Sire of Angelus has welcomed us to make a home here on his lands.”

“It’s not like we needed his permission,” Kristopher groused, frowning slightly.

Katy let out a displeased sound. “It was a show of civility.”

“Not that we owe that to him either.”

“Sire,” she said, sighing softly. “Kris, just because he’s an animal doesn’t mean that we need to lower ourselves to that level. Our packs will appreciate that we followed the old traditions.”

Kristopher frowned, but nodded his agreement. “Fine. Civility and permission granted. Great.”

He went back to strumming, picking out the bridge to a popular song he heard on the radio. He wondered why Katy was still standing there and he looked up at her. She would forever be beautiful and youthful, with clear blue eyes that were always curious and delighted with the world; her immortality due to her mating with Thomas. He wouldn’t begrudge her any happiness and stood as Guardian to their two pups.

“Your Season is coming.”

Kristopher sighed, placing his hands on the strings of his guitar, and looked away from Katy. “I know. It’s stronger now that I know he’s close by.”

“Thomas and I could help you through it again,” she said, sitting next to him. “But I don’t think your werewolf would allow either of us to touch you when you know your mate is near.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Mate.” He hugged his guitar. “I could’ve killed him. He wanted me to kill him.”

“I know he…hurt you—“

“You have no _idea_ what he did to me,” he said, letting out a deep breath.

Katy placed her hand on his arm. “You can talk to me. I’m not just your Seneschal, I’m your friend.”

She was more than just a friend and his advisor. There were many years when she was his lover, even after she mated with Thomas, and he took comfort from both of them in his darkest days. He took comfort from many of the werewolves in his pack, all the while knowing that he wouldn’t be satisfied, that there was always a sense of…something missing. He might have physical relief with a lover, but no one but his mate was able to knot him and give him what he needed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Kris…”

He turned to look at her, shaking his head. “I _really_ don’t want to talk about it.”

She nodded, giving him a small, understanding smile. “Does anyone know what happened to you the time that you were captured?”

“No,” he said, setting his guitar aside and standing up. He walked to the window overlooking the street, watching people walking past. He loved humanity; admired them for their ability to face anything and survive. He had seen the worst of mankind, but he had seen hope and love, too. It was an instinct borne in both of their kinds, to survive at all costs.

“You won’t be able to resist the mating call of the Season, Kris,” she said, her voice low and tight.

She was right; now that he knew that Adam was close by, his body and his mind wouldn’t rest during the fourteen days of the mating Season. He didn’t know how he was going to face _that_ – face Adam – after what he had done. He couldn’t face the shame and degradation of going to Adam and having to _ask_ him for it. He’d rather suffer through it than—than debase himself to that monster.

“If you tell me that time heals all wounds—“

“I would never offer you such trite bull crap,” she said, slightly offended.

“You could lock me in the basement again, keep me chained up so that I won’t try to go to him,” he said, turning to look at her.

“You screamed the whole time,” she reminded him, gently. “We nearly lost you the last time you went through the Season without…Kris, I can’t let you go through that again. You’re our king; what do you think will happen if we were to lose you?”

He shook his head. “You know that the bond won’t let me die, not without Adam dying, too.”

“Do you want to die?”

Kristopher bit his lip hard. Some days, he did. He wanted nothing more than the oblivion of death.

“Because if that’s truly what you want, we’ll go get him and bring him here and take his heart and give you a peaceful passing,” she said, her voice trembling. “Kris—“

“No, I don’t want to die,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Two more days until the start of the full moon.” He closed his eyes and held back his tears. “I don’t know if I can do this, Katy.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Tell me what you need, Sire.”

He pressed his face against her warm neck. He whispered it to her; if he whispered it, maybe he could deny what he needed most. He wouldn’t have to face Adam again.


	7. Chapter 7

It was hard to surprise Adam. He was thoroughly jaded and had seen it all, done it all. He really didn’t think there was anything that could make him feel anything beyond mild pleasure. But that was the thing about being part of life – he could still be surprised and it delighted him.

When he opened his mailbox and saw an envelope with Kristopher’s House of Allen seal with the little gold crown at the top to symbolize his status as a pack king, Adam felt his heart clench. He held his breath as he carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the formal card inside:

 _Greetings, Sire Lambert of Angelus,_

 _We invite you to the court of Sire Kristopher Allen, king of the wolf pack. We would like for you to visit our court on the day of the third full moon at 2:00 pm. In the enclosed, you will find directions to the court._

 _Regards,_

 _K. O’Connell, Seneschal  
Court of the House of Allen _

He shuddered as he read the note again, taking a deep breath as he stared at the neat handwritten note. _House of Allen_. It had been a long time since he thought of himself as a House of anything. The third day of the full moon was tomorrow. He knew Megan, Cale and Allison could watch over the store and that Cale would do the closing and stay with Allison to wait for her mom to pick her up. He didn’t expect to be out the whole day, but he wanted to plan ahead, just in case.

 _Just in case…what?_ It wasn’t like he was going to be accepted by Kristopher’s pack. It wasn’t like they were going to have him sit with them for dinner, talk about the old days. He knew this was a test of some kind. He wasn’t quite sure what for, but he knew he was being tested.

If it meant that he would get a chance to see Kristopher again, Adam would take any damned test they wanted to give him.

He shut the mailbox door and took his key from the lock and ran up the stairs to his apartment. It had been a long time since he thought of court manners, but he knew that he couldn’t appear without a gift. It would be rude to show up without anything – but what on earth could he offer Kristopher? He didn’t really know his mate; and it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to bring him anything that would remind him even more of their past.

Adam looked around his apartment and looked at the various things he had collected over the years. There was something…from long ago, when they were friends…something that Kristopher had once given him as a sign of their friendship. He sat down in front of his bookcase and pulled the books off the shelf. Hidden behind the books was a small wooden box. A part of him couldn’t touch it; he had kept it hidden for so long, too many memories within. He pulled it out gently and opened the lid.

Inside were the only reminders of Kristopher he had – of their past before the war, before he had…just before. A lock of his hair, the letters they had exchanged as children, a piece of Kristopher’s royal cloak, and a medal that Kristopher once gave him for his heroism. Back when he believed Adam was a hero. It was gold and engraved with the crest for the House of Allen. He remembered when Kristopher, the Crown Prince, pinned it on his cloak and smiled up at him, putting his hands on Adam’s shoulders.

 _”I’m proud of you, Adam, proud to call you my friend.” He smiled, shyly. “Proud that you are a hero of our packs.”_

And then Adam destroyed everything that was possible between them – his jealousy of Kristopher’s status in the packs, his anger at what he wrongly believed was Kristopher’s weakness.

He closed his hand around the medal, feeling it cut into his palm. He couldn’t possibly give this to Kristopher. What the hell was he thinking? He placed the medal back into the box and stared at it for a long, long moment.

***

He followed the directions and found himself several miles outside of the city towards the undeveloped lands near the deserts. There was a sprawling ranch and he drove up to the gate and presented his invitation, waiting patiently for the guards to check with whoever they needed to so that he could pass inside. The guards waved him through and told him to park in front of the main house.

It was rustic and inviting. There were dozens of werewolves working around the lands. He got out of the car and looked around, impressed by all the work that they had done. It was far enough away that if they wanted to run, they wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone for miles. He saw that they were constructing a number of small cottages around the main house – possibly for those who were part of Kristopher’s inner circle – and they turned to watch him.

The door to the main house opened and a petite woman stepped out. She was pretty with long blonde hair and dressed for comfort, not court. He walked towards her slowly.

“I’m Katy O’Connell, the Sire’s Seneschal,” she said, holding out her hand.

He shook her hand. “Adam Lambert.”

She looked up at him for a long moment. “You don’t signify your House name?”

“I have no House, Madam Seneschal.”

“Welcome to the court of the House of Allen, Mr Lambert,” she said, motioning him towards the doors.

“It’s Adam. Thank you for the invitation,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m really surprised that you’d invite me at all.”

She gave him a cursory tour of the inside of the house, a rambling one story ranch house with wide rooms with large windows, sunlight touching everything. It was definitely a home, comfortable and welcoming, and Adam envied it, the sense of home and pack.

“I don’t approve of you at all,” she said, leading him to the back patio.

Adam nodded. “I don’t expect you to.”

“But you are the Sire’s bond mate and this is a business meeting, nothing more or less.”

He frowned, slightly. “I’m not really sure I understand.”

“This is the Sire’s Season,” she said, looking at him directly. “I don’t need to explain myself, do I?”

He swallowed his surprise and whispered, “no.”

 _Kristopher’s mating call Season._ He started to shiver.

“He doesn’t know I’m here, does he.”

Katy stared at him. “No.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” he said, tightly. “I can’t imagine that Kristopher would want me to be here for this.”

“In this court, in his house, you don’t have the privilege to touch him,” she said, warningly. “I’ve invited you here to give you a chance – one chance, Adam – to reassure me and those of his court that if he comes to you that you understand why.”

He glared at her. “I won’t make him do anything he doesn’t want.”

Katy gave him a long look. “What did you do to him when you captured him for those three days?”

Adam frowned and shook his head. “If he hasn’t told you—“

“He didn’t need to tell me anything,” she hissed at him, taking a step to stand in front of him, blue eyes flashing with anger. “When he came back to the pack, we all saw what you did. We saw the scars before he healed; we heard him scream when he had nightmares. He wouldn’t let any of us touch him for decades. So you don’t have to tell me anything. I _know_ what you did to him.”

“If you know, then why did you invite me here?”

“Because you bonded with him and he needs to mate,” she said, growling lightly. “How do you think it feels for me to ask his rapist and torturer to mate with him? Do you think I like this? Do you think I _want_ to see him have to go to you?”

Adam didn’t know what to say. What could he say? Nothing justified what he did. “I can’t take away the past; I’m more sorry than I can say for what I did to him; but I won’t hurt him again.” He took a deep breath and met her eyes. “I’d rather die than hurt him.”

She turned away, her hands pressed against the patio table. “The Sire is in the stables. Thomas will take you to him.”

From the shadows, a thin young werewolf with dark blond hair stepped into Adam’s view. He gave Adam a long look, dark eyes untrusting. Adam wanted to say something to reassure Katy that he was changed, that he wasn’t the psychopath of his past, but he pressed his lips together and followed Thomas out of the house.

***

“I’ll wait out here,” Thomas said, pointing Adam towards the stables.

“Thank you.”

Adam walked slowly into the stables and heard Kristopher’s deep voice humming something upbeat. He watched as the young king mucked out the stalls happily, wearing ratty old jeans and a white wife beater, sweat stains on his back and under his arms. His damp hair stuck to his forehead and there were pieces of what looked like hay sticking in his hair. It reminded Adam of the times when Kristopher could be found in the stables with the animals, cleaning their cages or their stalls, never mind that he was the Crown Prince and heir of sixteen wolf packs.

“Kristopher.”

The young werewolf nearly dropped the shovel as he jumped in surprise. He gasped and turned, pressing against the stall wall as he stared at Adam.

“Katy said you were here,” Adam told him, keeping his distance. He watched as Kristopher looked out the stables to see Thomas leaning against the doorway, watching them. Adam could almost see the relief cross Kristopher’s face and that struck him right in the gut.

Kristopher wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, setting the shovel down. “My Seneschal is such a busy body.”

Adam couldn’t help the smile, but he stopped when he realized that Kristopher wasn’t returning it. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

He watched as Kristopher picked up his shirt, wiping his face with it. He glanced up at Adam and swallowed. “I know why you’re here.”

“Because you’re in your Season.”

Kristopher made a disgusted face. “I’m not going to seek you out for—for that.”

“I would be there for you if you needed it.”

He snorted, sneering at Adam. “How convenient for you; you get to fuck me because our bond and our animal instincts take over.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, sadly. “I know it’s not enough but…I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’d do anything to go back and…to make it so that it never happened. But I can’t change the past and I can’t take back what I did. Just…just know that I would never do anything like that again. I’ve changed—I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, but I have. I’ve never done anything like that and…I’m not that monster. I’m sorry; I’m so sorry, Kristopher.”

“Just shut up and get away from me,” Kristopher said, tightly.

Adam nodded, slipping his hand into his pocket. “I brought you a gift.” He knew better than to try to put it in Kristopher’s hand. Instead, he left it on a small ledge of the stall wall. “Thank you for letting me visit your home. It’s gorgeous, what you’ve done here.”

Kristopher didn’t say anything and didn’t acknowledge him. Adam took a moment to look at his mate, memorizing his freckled broad shoulders and his muscled arms. He was beautiful; more now than when he was younger. Adam turned and hurried out of the stable, ignoring Thomas as he nearly ran towards his car.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: Really joyless sex; dub-con elements.**

Adam poured himself another glass of scotch and drank it down, swallowing down the fiery liquid to the hallow of his stomach. He really thought it was unfair that he hadn’t passed out yet; but he was certainly well on his way to getting drunk.

“Adam! Open the door!”

He laughed, ignoring Kristopher slamming his fist on his door.

“Adam!”

With an amused sigh, he got to his feet and made his way to the door, unlatching it. He opened the door and laughed because his mate reminded him of an angry little kitten. “Kristopher, what a surprise.”

Kristopher glared at him, pushing past him to come into his apartment. Adam sighed and closed the door, turning to lean against it.

“You are such a—a bastard,” Kristopher said, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling something out. He threw the small object at Adam’s chest.

Adam blinked and then looked down on the carpet to see the medal he had left Kristopher.

“Was that supposed to mean something?” Kristopher shouted, pacing in front of him. Adam thought he looked like an angry, caged animal. “Some kind of—of cruel sign of our past?”

“It was a gift,” Adam said, sobering slightly. “A reminder of the time when I wasn’t a monster.”

Kristopher stalked towards him and grabbed him by his shirt. He shoved Adam hard against the door. “Damn you, Adam! Damn you!”

Adam nodded, sadly. _Yes, damn him._ He raised one hand and stroked Kristopher’s head gently. “I’m sorry—“

He slammed Adam against the door again, the back of his head thumping on the wood. He winced but held Kristopher’s eyes.

“Your words mean nothing to me,” he hissed, glaring up at Adam.

Adam nodded. “Then why are you here?”

“You _know_ why!” Kristopher shouted, slamming him against the door again. He let go of Adam’s shirt and took a step back, breathing heavily.

His heart sped up and he reached for Kristopher, wanting to hold him and kiss him. But his mate sucked in a breath and moved out of reach, narrowing his eyes.

“I’ll be in the bedroom. You don’t need to prep me. Just—just do it.”

Adam blinked, his mouth falling open, as he watched Kristopher walk down the hallway to his bedroom. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He walked to his bedroom and bit his lip, watching as Kristopher stripped out of his clothes, efficient and hurried, revealing his body in the darkness of the room. He got on the bed, on his stomach, hands clenched on Adam’s quilt.

“Kristopher?”

“It’s just physical release,” he said, voice hard.

Adam toyed with the hem of his shirt, uncertain. He had Kristopher in his bed, naked, and…well, not quite wanting, but…it was so cold, so calculated. The werewolf in him wanted to be close to his mate, but Adam wasn’t sure he could do this.

“If you can’t do it, tell me and I’ll find someone who can.”

He let out a soft growl and pulled his shirt off. He pulled off his socks and his jeans and briefs. He opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out a tube of lube. He stood by the bed for a long moment, tracing his eyes over Kristopher’s body. He was healthy and slim, but there was nothing fragile about him. His ass was plump and perfectly round. If he had any flaws, Adam couldn’t see them.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he whispered, putting his knee on the bed and moving over Kristopher.

Kristopher shifted his legs, parting them, and raised his hips slightly. “Don’t talk.”

“Can I prep you? Just…so I can…”

“Do it fast. I don’t want to be here all night,” he said, turning his face so that Adam couldn’t see him.

Adam tucked in between Kristopher’s warm thighs, shifting him open even a little more. He flicked the lid of the lube open with his thumb and squeezed out a large drop, warming his fingers through the thick gel. With shaking fingers, he reached out and touched Kristopher’s body, tracing his fingers to find his opening. He wasn’t sure how he felt when he discovered that Kristopher had already prepped himself loose, his fingers slipping inside of Kristopher’s warmth smoothly.

“That’s enough,” he hissed.

Adam bit his lip as he coated his cock with lube. He was surprised that he was hard at all. He moved so that he was holding his weight off of Kristopher, pressing his hips close and nudging the head of his cock to Kristopher’s opening and pushing in gently, all the way in, as he held his breath.

“Kristopher…God, please, let me make this good for you,” he said, trembling.

“Stop talking to me,” he said, panting roughly.

Adam took a deep breath and closed his eyes, thrusting into him gently, biting back his moan at the feel of his mate, to be so close after all this time. He grabbed the sheets so that his hands wouldn’t touch and linger on Kristopher’s body. He inhaled deeply, trying to capture the scent of his mate. He moved against Kristopher, using his cock to find the perfect angle, feeling the base of his cock starting to swell. He urged one of Kristopher’s thighs to move up and he rolled his hips, whimpering helplessly when his knot slotted just right inside of him, swelling against Kristopher’s prostate.

Kristopher groaned, unable to hide the sound. One of his hands slipped underneath his hips and Adam knew that he was jerking off. He stayed still, teeth gritted hard as he felt Kristopher clench and tighten and clench around his knot, making him thrust a little into him, the drag and friction sending pricks of hot pleasure through his body. Adam panted quietly, his arms shaking from holding up his weight. He moaned, dropping down to his elbow, his other hand grabbing the edge of the mattress.

“Sorry, I—“

Kristopher broke out into a muffled mewl of pleasure, sinking against the bed, breathing heavily. Adam threw back his head and pressed his hand over his mouth, his body shaking as he came, throbbing inside of Kristopher, his balls aching as he emptied into him, long and full and endless. He shivered and dropped his forehead against Kristopher’s shoulder.

With a soft sigh, Adam raised himself from Kristopher and gently turned them so that they were on their side. His knot would keep them tied together for a little while longer. He could feel his cock pulsing and wet and hot inside; could feel Kristopher squeeze around him, milking him.

He wished he could wrap his arms around Kristopher, hold him close, kiss him and nuzzle him, whisper how he loved him, and beg for his forgiveness. He closed his eyes and swallowed, keeping his hands off of Kristopher because he knew that wasn’t allowed, wasn’t part of this. This was based on Kristopher’s needs, not Adam’s. He owed it to Kristopher to give him what he needed; to do whatever Kristopher wanted.

***

He felt Kristopher come two more times and Adam swelled and pulsed again until he felt his swollen knot soften. Kristopher reached back and pushed Adam’s hips away, freeing himself. Adam watched as Kristopher got up, walking around the bed to his pile of clothes. He dressed quickly, keeping his back to Adam.

“Kristopher, can we talk about this?”

He watched as Kristopher stepped into his sneakers and then stalked out of his bedroom. Adam sighed, listening to the front door open and slam close. He ran his hand down his face and curled against the bed, breathing in the scent of Kristopher and bitterness and sex.

Adam wasn’t sure if he could do this again.


	9. Chapter 9

Every night, Kristopher came to his apartment after he closed the store. And every night, Adam would knot him and try to talk to him, to explain, to say something that would assuage Kristopher’s anger and his own guilt. And every night, Kristopher would put his clothes back on and leave without saying a word. Adam spent his nights getting very, very drunk. And in the mornings, Megan would find him, get him cleaned up, and then yell at him for being such an irresponsible asshole.

“I don’t get it, Adam,” she said, on the twelfth morning after. “You’ve never done this before. I mean, we all have our bad days, but I’ve had to drag you out of a pool of your own vomit four days in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing the cold bottle of water against his eyes. He leaned back on the old green couch in his office, trying to sober up.

“What’s going on?” She said, sitting next to him. “Is something wrong with the store? I mean, are you okay, financially? I don’t have much but I could give you a small loan or something if you need money.”

Adam grinned at her concern, shaking his head. He couldn’t tell her that he would never be in any kind of financial trouble; that he had accounts going back hundreds of years, safe guarded by dozens of stern and meticulous bankers who enjoyed growing his wealth and protecting his wealth as much as Adam did. If only his problems could be so easily solved.

“No, I’m okay,” he said, reaching out and holding her hand. “But thank you for offering. That means a lot to me.”

At some point, he should probably tell her about the trust fund that he created for her son when he turned sixteen.

“Then what is it? I’ve never seen you like this before and it’s kind of scaring me.”

“I’m just…going through something that I can’t talk about.” He took a deep breath and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “It’ll be okay in a few more days.” When Kristopher’s Season ended and he wouldn’t have to see Adam again for a few months, until it started again and…fuck, Adam couldn’t do this again.

Megan gave a deep sigh and placed her hand on his back, rubbing between his shoulders. Adam ached for her touch, such a gentle, human touch. He wanted to purr and crawl into her lap and just let her touch him for hours.

Instead, he made some kind of whimpering sound and Megan gasped, wrapping both of her arms around him and holding him tight.

“Jesus, Adam, tell me what’s going on with you. Please! I’m really worried!”

“I can’t,” he whispered, pulling away from her and standing up. He walked to his desk and sat down heavily, staring at his computer. “It’s better that you don’t know.”

There was a soft knock on the door and Cale popped his head in, looking at them. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but, uh, can I get a little help out front?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there, Cale,” she said, standing up. She gave Adam a reassuring smile. “You know that I’m here if you ever want to talk, right?”

Adam nodded and smiled. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

She sighed again and left the office, closing the door quietly behind her. Adam leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. He could still smell Kristopher on him; could hear the gasps that he tried so hard to muffle and hide. He was pretty sure that Kristopher could sense what he was feeling through the bond, but Adam couldn’t sense or feel anything coming from Kristopher. It was like the bond was shut off; that either Kristopher had found a way to keep that distance or that they had been apart for so long that the bond was imbalanced. It was nothing like that first time that they bonded when Adam felt like he was one with Kristopher, when every sensation, feeling, emotion, and thought burned into Adam.

Maybe he couldn’t really handle knowing that again about Kristopher, but a part of him longed for the connection to his mate, even if it was just hatred and anger, he needed it.

***

Adam sat back against the headboard of his bed, watching Kristopher get dressed. He turned on the bedside lamp and Kristopher flinched at the brightness, turning so that he wouldn’t have to look at Adam.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“It’s not like we have a choice,” Kristopher said, sitting down on the end of the bed, putting on his shoes.

Adam pulled his legs up and pressed his hands on his face. “How long are you going to punish me?”

“Does it matter? A year? A _hundred_ years? What do you think is the statute of limitations for your crimes?”

“I don’t know.”

Kristopher took a deep breath, his hands clutching the end of the mattress. He turned his head slightly towards his shoulder. “That night…how many werewolves in your packs did you kill?”

Adam raised his head and stared at him. “Hundreds.”

“Your family—they didn’t survive?”

“I killed them first,” he said, quietly. “How could I look them in their eyes when they knew what I had done to you?”

Kristopher sighed, hunching over to run his hands over his head. “Oh god…you destroyed four packs.”

“Death to the traitors,” he said, pushing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “That was my motto, right? Well…we were all traitors to the Crown Prince.”

Kristopher stood up abruptly and turned to look at Adam. “I’m calling my packs here. Granted, there aren’t a lot of us left, but they still represent the remaining twelve packs. They deserve to have a place to call home; a safe place.”

He met Kristopher’s gaze. “I won’t get in the way.”

“Some of them will come after you,” he said, softly. “They’ll want revenge.”

Adam nodded slowly. “As they should.”

Kristopher gritted his teeth and let out a breath, staring at the wall above Adam’s head. “You could leave the city.”

“No! This is my home, too,” he said, kicking off the sheets and scrambling to his knees on the bed. “They can come after me all they want but I won’t be driven out of my own city.”

He watched as Kristopher glared at him, his eyes moving slowly down Adam’s naked body. He frowned at the blush on Kristopher’s face and watched him look away. “I’m just saying that it’s not going to be pleasant for you.”

“I don’t suppose I can fall on the mercy of the court of the House of Allen.”

Kristopher stared at the floor. “I don’t have a lot of mercy when it comes to you, Adam.”

“Kris—“

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said, leaving the bedroom quickly.

Adam sank back on the bed, watching as Kristopher walked down the hallway.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N: Dubcon; graphic violence.**

He ran his hand down Kristopher’s stiff back. “You feel nothing?”

“Just get on with it, Adam,” he said, tiredly.

Adam pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Kristopher scrambled up on the bed, shoving Adam down on the mattress. “It’s not about what you want, is it?” He swung his leg over Adam’s hips, reaching behind him to grab Adam’s cock, pushing the head back into him and sinking down all the way.

Adam grunted, his hands grabbing Kristopher’s thighs. “This is so wrong.”

“My Season ends tonight,” he growled, moving up and down on Adam’s cock. “After that, I’ll take care of it myself.”

Adam stared up at him. “Take care of it yourself?”

Kristopher smirked, looking down at him. “I do have other werewolves who are more than willing to help me out when I need it.”

Adam growled and grabbed Kristopher by the waist, holding him as he turned them on the bed so that he was pinning Kristopher down. He grabbed Kristopher’s wrists and held them against the mattress, something like jealousy seething through his werewolf.

“You’re my mate; you don’t get to fuck around with anyone else. Not as long as I’m alive.”

Kristopher stared up at him. “The bond isn’t as strong for me as it is for you.”

“That’s because you won’t allow yourself to feel anything!” Adam hissed at him. He stared at the mockery in Kristopher’s brown eyes, the cocky tilt of his lips. He growled again and leaned down to kiss him.

Kristopher retaliated by biting his lip, hard enough to draw blood. Adam yelped and pulled back, licking the blood. He narrowed his eyes and shifted his hips so that he could push his cock deeper into Kristopher, groaning in pleasure as Kristopher tightened around him. He could feel his knot growing and he wiggled his hips, reaching down to pull one of Kristopher’s thighs higher on his hip. He grinned when Kristopher couldn’t hide his moan when the knot pushed against his prostate.

“This doesn’t mean anything!” Kristopher gritted out, his teeth clenched.

Adam settled on top of him, licking his lips. “Why can’t I feel anything from you?”

Kristopher growled, turning his face away. Adam leaned down and licked and kissed the stretch of his neck, nuzzling behind his ear.

“I know you can feel everything from me,” he whispered, licking and nipping on the little earlobe. “But why can’t I feel you? I want to know.”

“You don’t deserve to know anything about how I feel.”

Adam agreed with him, but he was tired of being out in the cold; he was tired of feeling so lonely, not when Kristopher was so close, just here, in his arms. “I want to make it good for you.”

He gave a thrust with his hips and Kristopher whimpered. He pushed up to his elbows to look at his mate’s face.

“Kristopher.”

Kristopher closed his eyes and kept his face turned away from him.

“Please, Kristopher,” he murmured, kissing his cheek, the hard line of his jaw, the warm flesh of his neck. “Please, Kristopher. Please. Please.”

“Shut up.”

He slid his hand down Kristopher’s side, feeling his muscles jump and flutter at his touch. His fingers slipped between them until they curled around Kristopher’s cock. He watched Kristopher’s face carefully, waiting for him to tell him no or stop, but Kristopher wasn’t looking at him, his lips pressed tightly together.

Adam stroked him once, just something light and teasing. Kristopher shuddered under him. He tightened his hold and stroked him again, letting his thumb caress over the slit. This time, Kristopher let out a soft whine and Adam kissed his neck, stroking him again and again, his fingers wet with pre-come.

Just on the edge of his mind, he felt a tingle, a little scritch-scratch along the bond, and Adam paid attention to it, opening his mind. It was a jumble of images and emotions, nothing that Adam could follow coherently.

“Please let me in,” he whispered against Kristopher’s ear.

He felt a flash of anger.

“Please, Kristopher.”

He felt the memory of pain, dulled over the centuries but still there.

Adam shifted his hips again, the knot keeping him from pulling all the way out. He groaned as he pushed back into Kristopher, his hand curling tighter around Kristopher’s cock, stroking him firmly. Kristopher caught his breath, his hands coming up to wrap around Adam’s shoulders, legs closing around his hips. He wiggled a little and then arched his back, pulling Adam closer.

“That’s it, baby,” he crooned, kissing across Kristopher’s cheek, licking at the corner of his lips. He nipped and licked over his mouth, begging to be let in. Kristopher inhaled sharply when Adam’s twisted his hand just under the head and Adam pressed his tongue inside his opened mouth, licking into his mouth.

A wave of emotion went through him as the bond connected and snapped together like lightning. He felt Kristopher arch and shudder against him, mouth slack but not pushing him away.

And there it was, their bond, centuries of feelings and images bombarding him all at once. He closed his eyes and pressed his mouth against Kristopher’s face, panting as he felt it all: Kristopher’s anguish, his pain, his loneliness, his _need_ – the need was so strong, the need to mate, the need to be intimate.

“Jesus, Kristopher,” he moaned, digging his knees into the bed. He felt the shiver starting at the base of his spine, pleasure pushing out of him as he came, whimpering when Kristopher tightened around his knot.

Underneath all the anger and fear and misery and distrust, he could feel the old bond of friendship, of love. Kristopher cried out, face twisting in denial.

Adam breathed heavily, trying to control himself as he pulsed and pulsed inside of Kristopher. He started to stroke Kristopher’s cock faster and harder, needing to feel him come.

“Please, baby,” Adam said, coaxing him with his body, his hand, his bond. “Come on.”

Kristopher arched his neck, muscles straining, jaw tight, eyes screwed shut. He let out a guttural, throaty moan, his body shaking as he came, hot and thick in Adam’s hand as he kept stroking him through it. Adam kissed him, wanting to taste his moans, his head buzzing from the bond and from Kristopher’s pleasure.

“Kristopher,” he murmured, kissing whatever part of his mate he could reach. “Kristopher, Kristopher…”

He felt Kristopher swallow and he raised his head to look at his mate. Kristopher stared at him with wide brown eyes, shocked and scared, but sated and calm. He stroked the top of Kristopher’s head, caressing him gently, giving him a small smile. Kristopher sighed, his hands tense on Adam’s shoulders, and Adam leaned down and kissed him and kissed him, kissed him until Kristopher started to kiss him back, tangling his tongue around Adam’s, teeth nipping at his bruised lip. Adam smiled wider, curling around his mate, feeling uncertainty coming from Kristopher, but also something else…something that didn’t feel like hate. It was a start.

***

Adam was in good spirits as he walked back to the apartment from the grocery store. He hefted a bag of groceries, his mind completely distracted with the memories of the last night he spent with Kristopher. He still got dressed in silence and left without saying much to Adam, but Adam knew that their bond was true and he relished the fact that he could feel Kristopher, that he felt _closer_ to him.

He should’ve been paying attention. The pain was hard and hot, striking him on his side. He dropped his groceries and fell to his knees, growling as he looked up at the three werewolves surrounding him.

“Don’t let him shift!” One of them yelled as Adam flexed his back.

He cried out in pain when he felt metal hit the back of his thigh, the shock of it preventing him from changing into his werewolf form. Suddenly, there were hands on him, grabbing his hair and pulling his head back. He felt duct tape cover his eyes and mouth and he kicked out with his good leg as they dragged him, throwing him into what felt like a van. One of them kicked him in the ribs and Adam curled into his body, trying to protect himself.

“Go! Get out of here!”

“Knock him out!” A familiar voice growled over him.

He felt someone grab his hair, pulling his head up and slamming it against the metal floor of the van—

***

The spray of ice cold water on his naked body pulled him out of unconsciousness. Adam looked up to see his arms bounded with chains, barely keeping him upright on his feet. Someone pulled the chains, making him rise to his toes to hold his balance.

He looked around the warehouse room and saw the three werewolves, but he only recognized one of them.

“Andrew—what’s going on?”

“Break his legs,” Andrew said, casually.

“No! Andrew—“ Adam screamed when one of the werewolves hit him with the crowbar, his lower leg bones shattering. He slipped and tried to grab hold of the chains, shifting his weight to his other leg. “Stop! Andrew!”

He jerked in the chains when one of them swung the crowbar at his other leg. Adam screamed, losing his balance, his arms pulling in the chains and snapping his shoulder joints out of its sockets. Adam screamed again, trying to hold himself up with his shaking legs, the pain streaking through his body.

“Hit him again.”

***

He woke up in a dog cage, his hands swollen and skin torn from his wrists. He tried to curl into himself when one of the werewolves sprayed him with cold water, his body trembling from the cold. He didn’t remember how many times they broke his bones, stopping to let him heal fully before starting all over again. Afterwards, they threw him on the ground in the cage and kept him locked up for hours until Adam lost all sense of time. Hours? Days?

He would’ve shifted to his wolf form but the first time that he did, they shocked him with a cow prod, the electricity slicing along his raw nerves, intensifying the pain from his broken bones and cut flesh. He shifted back to his human form and stared at the three werewolves, growling deep in his throat.

Andrew kicked the side of his cage and Adam stared up at him. Andrew smiled, scratching his chin.

“Still some life left in you,” he said, cocking his head to the side.

“You can kill me, but don’t forget that I’m bonded to Kristopher.”

Andrew snorted. “If you think the Sire is going to come for you, you’re wrong, Adam.” He leaned closer, meeting Adam’s eyes. “Who do you think gave us permission to do this?”

Adam shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t do allow this.” He didn’t believe it; no matter how Kristopher felt about him, Adam didn’t believe that he would let this happen. It wasn’t in Kristopher to be cruel. “I don’t believe you.”

Andrew chuckled, taking a deep breath. “I think the hot pokers are ready. What do you say, Adam? Feel up for a barbeque?”

***

He didn’t want to wake up ever again because he knew what was waiting for him as soon as he opened his eyes. He stifled his groan of pain to keep the werewolves from hearing him and kept very still.

His senses told him something different. He wasn’t in the cage; he wasn’t freezing cold. He was on something soft and clean – a bed? And there was a familiar scent – his werewolf whined – mate!

“You’re safe now.”

Slowly, Adam opened his eyes and found himself in a bedroom. He was under clean covers, warm and healed. His heart quickened when he turned his head to see Kristopher sitting in a chair near the bed.

 _“Kristopher?”_

Was this a trick? Were the werewolves telling the truth, that Kristopher gave them permission to hurt him? Was he here to witness whatever new tortures they thought up? He desperately wanted to believe that Kristopher wasn’t capable of it; but he knew that if anyone needed revenge, it would be Kristopher. And Adam accepted that, at some point during his torture, he gave in to the belief that yes, he did deserve this.

“How long?”

Kristopher sighed. “Three days.”

Adam didn’t miss the irony. “That makes sense.”

“You think you deserved what they did to you,” Kristopher whispered, looking at him thoughtfully.

“Yes.” _Didn’t he?_

Kristopher leaned forward, his eyes dark and face pale. He looked exhausted and scared. Adam wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around his mate to comfort him.

“You deserve a lot of things, but you didn’t deserve that,” he murmured, kindly. “I saw what they did to you—even when you did your worst, you never did any of those things to me.”

Adam felt his throat tighten and he swallowed down the hard lump. “I was a monster.”

“What kind of punishment do you want?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.

“In four hundred years, have you ever had a moment of peace? Have you ever had family or pack to love you and watch your back? Have you had friends that truly knew you and trusted you? Have you had any of those things, Adam?”

 _“No.”_

Adam stared at the ceiling, his nose tingling. His hands clenched in the bed sheets as his eyes started to prickle, hot tears falling down his cheeks. It was too much to hope that Kristopher would forgive him; or that he could forgive himself. He let out a wet gasp, his chest shuddering. He couldn’t catch his breath and he sniffled loudly, not making any attempt to hide. The tears seemed so endless; and a part of him was angry that he was feeling so sorry for himself.

“Maybe you’ve been punished enough,” Kristopher said, softly.


	11. Chapter 11

Adam opened his eyes and inhaled the scent of Kristopher in the bed, shocking himself awake. _He was in Kristopher’s bed._ He hummed to himself in pleasure, basking in Kristopher’s scent. If he didn’t think it would be embarrassing, he would’ve kicked off the sheets and rolled around in Kristopher’s bed.

A voice snickered and Adam looked up to see Thomas sitting in the chair, his feet propped up against the end of the bed, a book open on his lap.

“Good morning.”

Adam sat up, pulling the sheets and covers with him. “Good morning, Thomas.” He looked around the room. “Is Kristopher…”

“He’s speaking with Katy,” Thomas said, closing the book and sitting up in the chair. “They caught Andrew and the two others who hurt you. Kristopher had them executed.”

Adam gasped, looking up at the pretty werewolf. “What?”

“The Sire does not tolerate pack members attacking their own,” he said, firmly. “It’s been his law for about four centuries.”

“I’m sorry…” _More werewolf deaths on his hands._

Thomas stood up and gave him a smile. “Andrew and the others knew the consequences of going after you, especially after Kristopher told them that you were off limits.”

“They were right, though.”

He watched as the younger werewolf gazed at him. “I’ve known the Sire for nearly all my life. When Katy and I mated and bonded, he gave his blessing and he stands as Guardian to our two cubs.” He scratched at the back of his neck, looking shy. “We’ve been taking care of him, but ever since we came to California, we haven’t been able to help him like before.”

Adam nodded at the earnest expression on the other werewolf’s face. “I’m not going to hold it against you that you gave him comfort, if that’s what you’re getting at. It’s not like I have any right to, you know?”

Thomas nodded and took a deep breath. “Katy and I—we’ll not stand in your way if you claim him as yours.”

“I don’t think Kristopher is going to let me claim him,” he said, sadly.

“But you wish you could.”

“Yes.”

The younger werewolf gave Adam a long look over, a smile forming on his lips. He picked up some clothes and handed them to Adam. “You can move around freely on the ranch.”

Adam plucked at the clean clothes. “I’d really like to go for a run.”

“There’s a beautiful wooded area about two miles north of the ranch. It’s a great place to get away. There’s a really sweet patch of moss that gets warm from the sunlight. It’s by a small lake, you can’t miss it,” Thomas said, kindly.

Adam nodded his thanks and got out of bed, shifting to his wolf form. He stretched out his front limbs and then his back limbs, bending this way and that. He looked up to see Thomas looking at him.

“Your eyes are blue,” he murmured, getting down on his knee to look at Adam. “Aren’t you a gorgeous wolf.”

Adam gave him a low growl but Thomas just laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Go have a good run. Come back when it’s time for dinner.”

***

He found the small wooded area and padded into the grassy thicket. The smells were lovely – grass and tree bark and fresh water – and Adam sighed in pleasure, finding peace in his natural habitat.

He heard someone playing soft music and a low, husky voice singing somewhere. It was true that music soothed the beast and Adam followed the sound curiously. He saw Kristopher sitting on the grass, strumming the guitar on his lap, singing with his eyes closed. Adam inched a little closer, careful not to make a sound to alert Kristopher of his presence. He wasn’t really sure how things were between them, so he was hesitant about going closer. He sat down on his haunches, hidden behind the low bushes. He closed his eyes and nodded his head to the rhythm of Kristopher’s music.

His mate was full of surprises; and Adam was eager to know him. A part of him was delighted by the fact that music tied them together. When they were just werecubs, Kristopher was more interested in running outdoors or taking care of the animals in the stables than any of the other courtly manners like music or writing or fashion. He was always running in late to his father’s court, dirt on the side of his face or smelling of fresh hay and flint. Adam teased him mercilessly about being so dirty, how his royal cloak was imprinted with the hooves of animals.

 _”If **I** were the Crown Prince, I’d never be out there getting so grubby,” Adam teased, thumb brushing the dried dirt from Kristopher’s cheek. “Red looks better on me anyway.” He slid his hand down the dark burgundy red of Kristopher’s royal cloak. _

_“Sometimes, I think you should be the Crown Prince so that I can go out there and just be with the packs and not have to do all this boring court and political stuff,” he groused, rolling his eyes. He playfully slapped Adam’s hand away. “I’m not a cub, you don’t have to clean my face.”_

 _“Someone has to look out for you,” he said, snottily._

 _”Kristopher. Prince Adam. May I have a moment with my son?” The king said, his voice full of exasperation and affection._

 _“Of course, Sire,” Adam said, bowing politely and smirking over his shoulder at Kristopher. He walked around the corner and into an alcove, smirking to himself at the trouble that Kristopher was bound to get._

 _“I really would wish you’d learn not to come running into the court hall looking like one of the stable hands. You’re the Crown Prince. One day, you’ll rule sixteen of the greatest werewolf packs in the world.”_

 _Kristopher bowed his head. “I’m sorry, father. I promise to not embarrass you again.”_

 _“You don’t embarrass me at all,” he said, patting Kristopher’s back. “But a future king must know where to draw the line. You must put your desires second to that of the packs.”_

 _Adam watched from the shadows as Kristopher looked up at his father, a smile on his face. “I always think of the packs, but I like to know the werewolves in them. That’s why I was in the stables. They talk to me like I’m a regular werewolf. They told me about how some werewolves in our packs are going hungry and need medicines and—“_

 _“I know, Kristopher, we are working to help them.”_

 _Kristopher took his father’s arm. “Let me go and see for myself. I want to help them.” He took a deep breath and met his father’s eyes. “If I’m going to rule someday, then I should be with my packs, to let them see that the Crown Prince is with them, no matter what. Otherwise, I just wear pretty cloaks and listen to speeches about tributes and pretend to care. I’m not helping anyone by doing nothing.”_

 _The king smiled at Kristopher. “You’re going to be a great king of the packs, son.”_

 _Adam watched as they walked down the corridors of the castle. He narrowed his eyes, the first twinge of jealousy growing in his heart._

He opened his eyes and saw Kristopher looking at him, hands on the strings of his guitar. Adam ducked his head, nervous about being caught.

“You can come closer,” he murmured, waving his hand for Adam to approach.

He padded closer until he was just a couple of feet away and then got down on his belly, looking up at Kristopher.

Kristopher stared at him, looking him over, and then sighed. He looked away and started playing his guitar again, singing softly to himself. Adam swayed his head in time to the music, keeping his eyes on Kristopher the whole time. He had no idea that Kristopher knew music. He wanted to shift to his human form and ask when did he learn to play, did he write is own music, what kind of music did he favor, would he maybe want to come to his music store?

Instead, he inched a little bit closer until his front paw was just touching Kristopher’s outstretched legs. He blinked up at Kristopher, who gave him a wry “I know what you’re doing” smile, but he didn’t move away. Adam twitched his ears, watching as Kristopher got carried away by the music he was making, and he set his snout down on top of his shin bone and let out a soft breath, closing his eyes and listening to Kristopher’s voice.

The world faded away, but his sense of smell came online as he twitched his nose, becoming alert at the silence around them. He raised his head to see Kristopher sprawled out on the grass, his hands tucked behind his head. He was staring up at the sky and he turned his head to look at Adam. He reached out and touched Adam’s back, his fingers trembling slightly as he petted Adam, scratching him through his thick black fur.

Adam ducked his head and watched him, letting out a pleased bark. He nearly rolled on his back, wanting Kristopher to rub his belly.

“We should get back,” Kristopher said, sitting up and moving to his feet.

Adam got up on his paws and looked around, making sure that there wasn’t anything out there that could be considered dangerous. Kristopher picked up his guitar case and slung it over his shoulders. Adam whined, pawing the ground for a moment to get his attention. _What did he do, walk out here on his own?_

Kristopher rolled his eyes. “I brought the cart.”

Adam cocked his head to the side and followed Kristopher into the clearing to see what looked like a souped up golf cart parked on the grass. He jumped on the seat and sat down, watching as Kristopher got behind the wheel.

He pushed a button to start the engine but Adam placed his paw on the steering wheel and looked at Kristopher meaningfully.

“Fine,” he said, putting on the seatbelt.

Adam nodded and sat back against the seat, looking out the small windshield. He wondered who put this golf cart car together; it was a brilliant idea for the ranch.

The ride was bumpy and Adam nearly fell out of the cart a few times, barely hanging on with his claws digging into the seat. Kristopher laughed quietly as Adam slipped down the seat to land in the footwell of the cart. He whined, looking up at Kristopher, who was enjoying the ride too much to care for Adam’s discomfort.

“You could’ve just run alongside,” Kristopher said, smiling.

His nerves shot from the ride back to the ranch, Adam jumped off the cart and walked to the back patio, curling up on a patch of sun-warmed wood. He tucked his nose under his tail and closed his eyes. Kristopher was a menace in a moving vehicle. He gave a huff when Kristopher walked past him, going into the house.

“What wrong with him?” Katy said, clearly amused.

“He should’ve just run along by the cart, not tried sitting on the front seat,” Kristopher murmured, chuckling softly.

Adam barked out his displeasure but that only made Katy and Kristopher laugh.

His ears flicked when he heard footsteps vibrate on the patio. He opened his eyes to see Thomas sitting down beside him, his hand moving over Adam’s back with a friendly familiarity that made Adam sigh in pleasure. When he scratched behind Adam’s ears, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he sprawled on his side, looking up at Thomas.

Thomas laughed, patting him firmly on his side. “I guess you had a good run.”

Adam barked softly in agreement, moving up on his front paws and sitting back on his haunches. He was just content to sit there with Thomas, enjoying the first sense of peace he had in a long, long time. He knew he couldn’t stay in his wolf form or stay away from his human family. No doubt Megan, Cale, and Allison were worried about him. He needed to get back to his life.

He looked over his shoulder to look inside the house. Kristopher was sitting at the kitchen counter, smiling at something Katy was telling him. Kristopher looked over at him, the smile still there, and Adam didn’t want to leave.


	12. Chapter 12

Adam woke up abruptly, jerking out of his nightmare before he got too lost in it. He uncurled his furred body and got up on his paws, taking in a deep breath. He could scent Kristopher and looked up at the bed to see him curled under the covers, asleep.

He arched his back and changed into his human form, letting out a silent groan of pleasure. It felt good to change back and he got to his feet, stretching his arms and legs and back. He looked around the dimmed room for the loose pants that Thomas brought to him and pulled them on. He didn’t think Kristopher would appreciate it if Adam walked around naked.

Kristopher looked like a boy in sleep; his brown hair fluffy and sticking up everywhere against the pillow, mouth opened and face turned to the side. Adam sat down on the edge of the bed, just watching Kristopher sleep. He wished he could touch him, stroke his head, or snuggle beside him. But he didn’t have that privilege. Maybe, one day…

“That’s really creepy,” Kristopher mumbled, voice low and thick with sleep.

“Sorry,” he said, turning to get off the bed.

Kristopher’s hand grabbed his arm, stilling him. Adam stared at the floor, holding his breath.

“I knew something was wrong when I couldn’t feel you through the bond,” he said, easing his grip on Adam’s arm. “I sent Torres to check on you at your store. He tracked your scent to the alley and saw the blood.”

“I’m sorry about Andrew…your friends—that you had to…”

Kristopher sat up on the bed, curling his legs under him. “They knew the consequences of attacking one of our kind.”

He met Kristopher’s steady gaze and nodded.

“Katy sent Thomas to make sure that your human family was okay,” he said, kindly. “They’re fine, by the way. He likes them a lot. They’re really worried about you.”

Adam looked at him in surprise. “I need to…” He sighed, looking away. No doubt Megan, Cale, and Allison would have thousands of questions for him.

He stood up and ran his hand through his hair. “I should probably get going. I don’t want to overstay my…time here.”

Kristopher nodded and kicked the covers off, getting off the bed. “Adam, you said that you wouldn’t get in the way of the packs coming here to settle down.”

“I promise, I won’t.”

“Let me finish,” he said, his lips quirking slightly. “There’s only about 200 of us left.”

Adam gasped. “So few? I didn’t know.”

“You won’t get in the way, but will you help?”

“Help?”

“Help me rebuild,” Kristopher said, looking up at him. “We can’t do this alone.”

Adam swallowed, too stunned to say anything. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around Kristopher’s middle, pressing his forehead against his stomach. “Sire, I’m falling on the mercy of the court of the House of Allen. I swear to do anything that you ask. I just… _please,_ Kristopher…ask me to do anything. I won’t ever let you down again.”

He trembled when he felt Kristopher’s hand stroke down his head.

“God, Adam, I don’t know if I can forgive you,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “But I can feel through the bond that you’ve changed. I don’t know what any of this means but…I don’t know how to put it aside yet. I’ve lived with my anger for so long now and…I’m not sure I know how to feel anything different.”

Adam nodded and tightened his hold on Kristopher. “It’s okay. I’ll prove it to you. We have all the time in the world.”

“Okay,” Kristopher whispered, settling his hands on Adam’s shoulders. “Okay.”

 

The End.


End file.
